


Imposition

by Bassarid



Series: Intoxicated [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Consent, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Gentle Sex, M/M, Perhaps more, a bit of angst, a hint of seungchuchu, but not in a way that warrants tagging the relationship, seung-gil has a very minor role in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 08:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10213907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bassarid/pseuds/Bassarid
Summary: After their first night in Helsinki, another time had turned into several, though not enough by far. So predictable, however, that when Phichit made no move on him at the Trophée de France, it felt decidedly odd.A continuation ofCerise. May or may not work well as a standalone story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I had a better title for this last night, but I forgot... Anyway, I'm going to go down with this ship. I think they may be starting to have feelings and stuff. Yikes.

It had become somewhat of a habit, and Chris didn't find it hard to admit that he liked it, Phichit sidling up to him after the occasional shared competition, a smile, a touch; or else a suggestive text, a picture. Phichit could get amazingly creative in the way he'd ask for sex.

After the initial bashfulness, Phichit proved very eager, keen to try things, very – hands on.

In short, Chris was enjoying himself immensely.

No strings attached suited him, and Phichit was true to his word, there was never a hint that he wanted more.

 

He hadn't quite expected this that night in Barcelona, when he'd flirted, casually, with the young man at the GPF banquet. Testing the waters in a way that was second nature to him. He would always back off the moment his advances weren't well-received, but Phichit had just blushed a little, and then given him a crooked grin, a sparkle in his eyes.

Had jerked his head once, indicating an exit near-by, raising those magnificent eyebrows, before he'd slipped out casually.

Chris had followed a moment later.

“My, my, Petit. It appears you are as bored as I am.”

Phichit had given him a non-committal shrug, watching as Chris approached.

“Do you have something better to offer?” he'd asked eventually, looking up at Chris.

“Do I ever.”

He'd traced a finger over Phichit's brow, down his cheek, letting it rest below the young man's chin. Had tilted his head up gently and brushed his lips over Phichit's.

“Like this?”

In lieu of a reply, Phichit had just pulled him down by his tie and kissed him.

It had been sweet and hot, deep kisses in a darkened stairwell, pressing Phichit against the wall, leg sliding between the other skater's legs, rubbing against a growing erection.

Perhaps he would have asked Phichit to come back to his hotel room back then, but a gruff voice had suddenly called Phichit's name from beyond the shelter of their stairwell. Chris had let go of him, smirking at the low curses from the adorably flushed Thai skater.

“My coach,” he had muttered.

“Another time, perhaps, Petit.”

 

After their first night in Helsinki, another time had turned into several, though not enough by far. So predictable, however, that when Phichit made no move on him at the Trophée de France, it felt decidedly odd.

Then again, Chris had eyes, and it was obvious that Phichit had something – well, someone – else in mind.

Chris didn't begrudge him his hook-up, though he could not see the appeal himself. The Korean was too sober, too reserved for his own tastes. He watched them together at the rink, just after the free skate, Phichit beaming and somewhat handsy, Seung-Gil looking at him with an expression that was still aloof, but definitely intrigued.

What else should he do with his evening if Phichit wouldn't grace it with his charming presence? Chris knew none of the other skaters at the competition well, wishing Viktor or Yuuri were there, too.

Or both. Both was always fun to watch.

Little Yurio's pretty Kazakh boy was there, but he was notoriously reticent, at least with anyone but the tiger cub.

Chris knew Paris well enough to know where to find company if he felt like it, but somehow the idea wasn't particularly attractive that night.

He settled on just having dinner at a small, not too touristy restaurant he'd discovered a few years back. Good food and a glass of wine in a calm, familial atmosphere. He caught himself wondering if Phichit would have liked it. It wasn't exactly a selfie sort of place, but then, Phichit could turn any occasion into a selfie occasion. Charming and entirely without pretense. He wasn't naive, not exactly innocent, either, but he always radiated a sense of wonder few people could carry over into adulthood.

Chris smiled fondly at the thought.

It was still early when he returned to his hotel room, unusually early for him, at least on a night that wasn't followed by a competition.

He checked twitter and Instagram, more out of habit than any actual interest, but smiled at the half a dozen pictures of Yuuri Viktor had posted in the last few hours only, all followed by hearts and smiling emoji.

Petit hadn't posted anything that night, yet. A downright miracle.

Chris finally uploaded a picture of the view from his balcony, Paris at night, always a favourite, then liked the pictures little Yuri had posted of his cat playing with one of his gold medals.

The message took him by surprise, and he opened it with a frown.

 

_Are you awake? Can I come over?_

 

There was a flutter in his stomach when he read the text, something he had not felt in years.

 

_Any time._

 

Ten minutes later there was a knock on the door, and Chris let Phichit in.

“Petit. What a pleasant surprise.”

He gave the younger man a questioning look, while Phichit just stood there, frowning at him.

“What's wrong?” Chris reached out and touched his shoulder gently. “Date didn't go well?”

Phichit sighed, shoulders sagging.

“It was weird. I wanted to see if it would be the same if it wasn't you. It wasn't. It was weird.”

Chris tilted his head to the side, trying to parse the information.

“Do you ever feel like I'm using you for sex?” Phichit blurted out and Chris blinked.

Then tried hard not to laugh.

“You say that like it's a bad thing, Petit.”

Phichit glared at him.

“I'm serious, Chris.”

“I'm sorry, Phichit. It was just so – out of the blue. I am not feeling used. Not in a bad way, anyway.”

He stroked down the other skater's cheek, then kissed the forehead that was still furrowed in some strange agitation.

“Whatever made you think so, Petit? Did I give you the impression?”

He pulled Phichit over to a settee near the window, sat down, patting the space next to him, and Phichit followed a moment later, face now slightly flushed.

“I'm always initiating,” he muttered, grimacing. “It felt like I was imposing.”

“Ah, Petit.” Chis pulled him close. “Believe me, I wouldn't let you. I'd tell you. I'll be honest with you, you can hold me to that – and you can always talk to me.”

Phichit sighed, but relaxed noticeably in his arms.

“Sorry for being silly.” He pressed himself closer, head resting against Chris' shoulder.

“No problem. I must admit, I missed you tonight, Petit.” He let his fingers trail along the nape of Phichit's neck, caressing it gently.

“Did you?” Phichit lifted his head.

“Of course. You've conditioned me too well. I'm expecting lovely company and amazing sex with a charming young man every time I see you skate live.”

It made Phichit laugh, and then kiss him briefly.

“What do you want tonight, Petit?”

They kissed a moment longer, then Phichit said thoughtfully:

“Kiss you lots. And I want to know what _you_ want. What do you want tonight, Christophe?”

“I think,” he muttered, “that I want to fuck you slowly, gently, just be deep inside you for as long as I can. I want it to absolutely wreck you.”

Phichit gave something between a laugh and a sigh.

“You always wreck me. But that sounds perfect.”

They made it to the bed eventually, discarding clothes as they went, fumbling with buttons and zips in between kisses and a lot of groping.

“Did you honestly believe this,” Chris kissed Phichit's stomach, licked a trail down to his cock, while squeezing his ass gently, “could possibly be an imposition? Oh, Petit.”

“Shut up,” Phichit laughed and pulled him back up none too gently.

For a long time they just lay on the bed, kissing and touching, wrapped around each other tightly.

At some point though, Chris' fingers wandered down between Phichit's cheeks, circling and probing carefully.

“How would you like to this, Petit?”

“Can we...” Phichit shifted in Chris' arms, turned around, so his back was pressed against Chris' chest. “Spoon?”

Chris smiled to himself, pressed his lips against the neck that was now perfectly exposed to him.

“Bien sûr.”

He could still kiss Phichit like this, a little awkwardly perhaps, with him craning his neck and Chris leaning half over him, but the position gave him access to Phichit's neck and throat and one exposed ear, and he took full advantage of that, kissing and licking along Phichit's neck and jaw, biting gently, until the young man was pushing back against him in a not so subtle hint, breathing rapidly.

Chris reached down and shifted Phichit's leg for better access, lubed up his fingers and started opening him up slowly.

“I love the way you feel, Petit. I can't get enough of being inside you.”

“Chris... I've missed this...”

Phichit gasped as Chris curled his fingers inside him.

He took him just as slowly, one hand holding on to Phichit's hips, the other caressing his hair, pulling him back for sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

Felt Phichit tremble, listened to his small moans as he moved inside him as slowly as he possibly could, his name spilling from Phichit's lips in between kisses.

“Please, Chris, just a little faster.”

“Hush.” Chris bit his throat, sucked for a moment, while sliding back into the tight heat of Phichit's body. “You can take this, Phichit, let me wreck you thoroughly, hm?”

Phichit turned his head as far as he could, eyes heavy lidded, and dragged Chris towards him for a deep, hard kiss.

“Do your worst.”

“Good boy.” Chris just said, smirking, continuing his slow assault, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in.

“Touch yourself, Petit.”

Phichit didn't need telling twice, his hand was on his cock in an instant, stroking, pumping himself while Chris fucked him, face pressed against Phichit's neck, panting hard, already close.

Phichit was louder than Chris had ever heard him, the shout, when he finally clenched down tightly on Chris' cock, carrying through the entire hotel room. Chris couldn't last much longer, came with a few shallow thrusts, fingers gripping Phichit's hips hard enough to bruise.

“Wow,” Phichit muttered, still sounding breathless a while later. Chris pulled out of him carefully and discarded the condom. Then he pulled Phichit close again.

“Not weird, I hope.”

“Shut up.” Phichit smacked his ass, lightly, only resulting in Chris wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“If you think that'll put me off, I must tell you that you might just be very mistaken.”

“Nah, I didn't really think it would put you off. Felt good, though.” He kissed Chris again, fingers tangling in his hair, until the kiss was interrupted by a yawn, making Chris chuckle.

“Oh Petit. So exhausted?” Chris pulled the blanket up around them after a second or two, waiting for a reaction. Phichit just looked at him for a long moment, then smiled and closed his eyes, snuggling closer.

“I want breakfast before sex,” Phichit muttered against his chest. “Coffee always comes first. Even before you.”

Chris snorted softly, reached for the light switch and turned it off, then closed his eyes, too, wrapping his arms around the young man.

“Duly noted, Petit.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, I have a [YOI sideblog](https://down-to-figure-skate.tumblr.com). It does not have enough Phichimetti content, alas.


End file.
